


Lines

by A Lost Time Journal (RoNask)



Category: Timeless (TV 2016)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-09
Updated: 2018-09-09
Packaged: 2019-07-10 09:30:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 567
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15946565
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RoNask/pseuds/A%20Lost%20Time%20Journal
Summary: Friends don’t hold each other like that, friends don’t look at each other with utter devotion, friends don’t think about each other as she did about him. There is no ‘just friends’ when someone involved is in love.





	Lines

**Author's Note:**

> I woke up my inner Flynn and he wrote me about his Lucy.

She can hear his heartbeat right under her ear, it catches her attention after a moment of a distraction from the movie. She can feel his arms laying on her lower back, hands almost touching. He has her laying between his legs, head on his chest. The buttermilk turtleneck she is wearing is her own, but the burgundy he’s using she has stolen a few times because it’s bigger and comfortable and has his scent all over it.

It has been a while since this began, whatever this is. Probably started when she learned he was the easiest one to talk to. Oddly, it made sense to be so. Jiya and Rufus had Connor and each other. Denise was a mama bear but there were things that she wouldn’t feel comfortable talking about with her. Wyatt was complicated and if she honestly thought about it, they were from different words. He was practical while she had her head in the books, basically reverse Scarlett O’Hara and Ashley Wilkes. Flynn, on the other hand, - if she were to follow the analogy - was Rhett Butler. Just like her. There was no holding back with him.

Lucy felt him shift a bit under her and looked up, found him looking down.

“You okay?” she heard him ask.

“Yes,” the response escaped her mouth in a soft sound. The historian moved up a bit, a tad bothered for disturbing the comfort of their position, still, the urge to be closer to him something she wasn’t willing to deny herself just now. Laid back down with her nose against his neck, a small smile on her lips as she felt his hand caress her back while the other laid on the side of her hip.

“Are you sure, Lucy?” he tried again, surprised by her sudden tenderness.

“Yes,” she assured.

Her hand on his chest, nostrils filled with his scent, she felt like kissing him, finding out just how his lips tasted like. He could feel her every breath on his skin, she could sense his under form.

She might be in love. Might. And it doesn’t hurt.

It makes her want to be around him, appreciate every movie night like this, every playful drinking night on his room, the talks, the book sharing. The bed sharing at times, even if it was something new.

They didn’t kiss, though. Not yet, anyway.

They also weren’t friends, that much was clear. They were close, but there was something in the way he looked at her and on how her mind sometimes went quiet and just whispered ‘And Flynn? What about Flynn?’.

Friends don’t hold each other like that, friends don’t look at each other with utter devotion, friends don’t think about each other as she did about him. There is no ‘just friends’ when someone involved is in love.

He was alone and so was she and it feels right, like falling into place.

And she doesn’t kiss him tonight, but the idea doesn’t leave her mind easily.

She falls asleep in his chest without realizing and he doesn’t mind, not even for a second, just caresses her back and hopes some piece of his soul survives this, them. Because for all he knows, he’s a goner, lost himself to her before he knew what hit him.

Flynn kissed the top of her head and turned to watch the rest of the movie.


End file.
